


The Long Weekend

by Spatzi (pretentioys)



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon), DuckTales (Cartoon 1987), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 04:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretentioys/pseuds/Spatzi
Summary: This is an incomplete work.For once, it's a long, quiet weekend in St. Canard.With no villainy afoot, there's no need for crimefighting.It's driving Darkwing Duck crazy.





	1. Everybody's Working for the Weekend

It was not a night like any other in St. Canard. It was quiet. Too quiet.

This was not in a way of figure of speech even. Literally nothing was up. It was frustrating to the masked mallard.

This was Darkwing Duck’s third or fourth patrol around Main Street. There had been no sign of the nonsense that plagued the streets of St. Canard. Not a sighting from the Fearsome Five. Or any other miscellaneous villain of the week. Nothing foul and F.O.W.L was afoot.

“It just doesn’t add up, LP,” Darkwing remarked, spying into the same alleys as they zoomed past.

“Yeah, it’s quiet tonight,” Launchpad agreed, using his binoculars to keep on eye on the skies.

There was a pause.

Darkwing Duck was desperate for some direction, “still no messages from SHUSH, huh?”

”Nada, DW,” Launchpad answered.

Darkwing grunted, “have you tried calling _them_?”

“We’ve been on hold for the last hour on and off, DW,” Launchpad laughed, good-naturedly “maybe they all just went out to enjoy the long weekend. Imagine that?”

Hardly did Darkwing Duck or Launchpad take a vacation. Honestly, they could not afford to. There were no weekends off for justice, as it were. Nope, nights were for patrol. The weekend’s for even longer patrols. Not that Launchpad minded. They were needed and as long as he was out with DW - it was great.

“Yes, but when people are out, that’s when they get in trouble!” Darkwing continued, making another lap towards the suspension bridge.

Waving his phone, Launchpad laughed, “ _but when there’s no trouble, why call, DW_?”

“This is no joking matter, LP,” Darkwing chastised him, speeding up a bit, “maybe the transmissions have been blocked by Megavolt!”

“But Gosalyn just called us to say goodnight earlier?”

“Maybe Bushroot has gunked up St. Canard’s powergrid with weeds again!”

As they crossed the bridge, Launchpad looked at all of St. Canard that was bright with city lights, “but, uh-”

“It’s just an example, Launchpad!” the masked mallard cut him off, “I’m... there can’t not be trouble.”

“Why d’ya say that?”

“ _It’s St. Canard_.”

“I’d usually agree with ya,” Launchpad conceded, taking another scan over the horizon, “but there just ain’t anything tonight.”

They zoomed past a stream of people who were club and bar hopping through St. Canard that night. Launchpad laughed, “well, just not evil-doers.”

“Actually, I think I just saw Camille Chameleon in that crowd,” Darkwing corrected, triumphant, making a U-turn with the Ratcatcher. They cruised past the flood of people again.

Launchpad used his binoculars to look out at the crowd, he questioned, “I dunno, DW, I don’t see anyone who looks like her-”

Darkwing guffawed, speaking matter-factly “that’s because she’s a shapeshifter, LP.”

“Oh,” Launchpad quieted at that. After a moment, he looked back up at Darkwing, “but, then, DW, how can you be sure that it is HER?”

“Let’s not get dragged down by the details...” DW coughed.

“I really just think it’s a bunch of folks having a good time, DW,” Launchpad shook his head, smiling a bit, “I mean if you just want an excuse to go to a bar, we can clock out for the night-”

Darkwing stopped the bike suddenly. “Launchpad, we are not quitting.”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” Launchpad replied, furrowing his brows in concern, “I mean... whatever, you want, DW, I just thought you WERE thinking that...”

“I’m not!”

Launchpad shrugged, “Alright. I’ll just drop it then.”

There was another pause.

“Why would I want to skip out on patrol?” Darkwing asked, disgruntled, “do you think I'm giving up? We haven’t even gotten halfway through it even. We still haven’t figured out why SHUSH hasn’t called us-”

“I didn’t mean like that by it, DW.”

“Then what?” he demanded.

His sidekick raised his hands up defensively, “I mean, we haven’t had a real date night in a while...”

Darkwing gave him an incredulous look.

“Not that I mind! Y’know, I’m low-maintenance about that stuff,” Launchpad brushed the hair out of his face, “I’m just explaining what I meant...”

“Great,” Darkwing revved up his bike, “now if you don’t mind, let’s worry about the important stuff. Like what the Fearsome Five are up to.”

The Ratcatcher started up again. Racing for another lap around St. Canard, Darkwing Duck and his sidekick, Launchpad, to finish out their patrol for the night and nothing less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna end up doubleposting tonight. i have a MUCH longer chapter two to post. keep an eye out.


	2. Everyone's Looking at You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for light references to IT (2017)

Through blinds, licks of sunrise stretched over the master bedroom of the Mallard’s residence. It was enough to stir Drake Mallard, who was kept awake all night anyway. How could he sleep when the villainy of St. Canard were positively up to something. Something long-term, everyone’s hands in it, probably been in the works for weeks. Or maybe they were trying to lull him into a false-sense of security. That had to be it!

Drake tried to get up, but found himself pinched to the mattress by his husband. He struggled to get out of Launchpad’s sleeping grip yet he only succeeded in being pulled closer against the other’s chest. Which would be great - _any other day! Time was critical to this._

With a ever-so-gentle slap to Launchpad’s beak, Drake attempted to wake the sleeping giant. In response, he only received a nuzzle against his neck. Then a deep snore. The bed-headed crusader, groaned, “Will you - please - get up? I cannot spend the morning canoodling when there’s evil conspiring at this very moment!”

Shouting always seemed to get Launchpad’s attention. He stirred a bit, looking up at Drake, visibly disgruntled already, but that was usual. D.W. was serial “not-a-morning-person” type of guy. Launchpad asked, not making any move to loosen his comfortable hold on Drake, “DW, it’s Saturday. Can’t we sleep-in for once?”

“What? Will you take this _seriously_?” Drake protested, struggling out again. Launchpad let him go, allowing Drake to leap out of bed, pulling a tangle of sheets out with him.

At the question, Launchpad looked at him, hurt, “Y’know... I’m always serious about ya, DW.”  
  
“Not that!” Drake waved him off, quickly, turning to direct his attention to his closet, “I meant - how suspicious it was last night! Absolutely no serious criminal activity, at all?”

At this point, Launchpad had chosen to sit up finally, but he leaned against the headboard. His eyes were closed like he was trying to catch a few last minute winks. He offered, “Maybe they were sleepin’, DW.”  
  
“Oh, c’mon,” Drake jumped back around in frustration, the shirt of his costume caught over his head, muffling him, “when does St. Canard ever sleep?”

Well, it didn’t. Usually. Darkwing Duck and his sidekick certainly never seemed to sleep much. They could get some though, last night, DW’s over-vigilance demanded they stay out on patrol even longer. Despite no hide nor feather of evidence that their peanut gallery of villains were up to something.

To Drake’s logic, lack of evidence WAS evidence that they were.

Thus Darkwing’s nightly prowl turned into a morning shamble.With a half-dressed Launchpad in tow, he took the stairs two steps at a time. Nothing would deter Darkwing Duck from getting to the bottom of - !

At the bottom of the stairs, Gosalyn and Honker waited for them. Drake stopped short of the last step suddenly. Scrutinizing the kids - Gosalyn crossed her arms impatiently while Honker looked anxious (when didn’t he?) - Drake asked, exasperated,  “What is it?”

Stepping forward, Gosalyn pointed at him, tickets in her hand, “You and Launchpad promised to take us to go !see IT!”

“See _what_?” Drake blinked.

“IT, Dad!” Gosalyn reminded, throwing her hands up in disbelief, “The movie?”

“Who goes to see a movie at...” DW looked to the grandfather clock in the living room,  “at 8 am, Gosalyn?!”

“ _Because_ you wouldn’t let me go see the midnight premiere and we can’t see it before night ‘cuz then Honker would be freaked out of his gourd and-” Gosalyn explained, refusing to take breath between words.

“Really?” DW asked flatly to Honker.

Honker whimpered, “well, if it wasn’t a horror movie...”

“A horror movie?! I wouldn’t let you see-” he turned to Launchpad, accusatory, “did you say that this was okay?”

“No!” Launchpad then furrowed his brows in thought, “well - maybe, I don’t know, DW.”  
  
“You did say yes, but it’s not a horror movie, Dad!” she rolled her eyes, “It’s a coming of age thriller.”

Drake pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He didn’t have time for this. He looked at his daughter, pointedly, “Oh yeah? What’s it about?”

“I just said-”

“No, what _happens_ in the movie, Gos?” he specified.

Gosalyn paused, mumbling, “there’s an evil that’s been haunting a town forever and it usually takes the form of a clown who... murders kids - not all the time though!”

“But it’s mostly kids...” Honker corrected, regretting his attempt to read the original book.

Drake flared up, “Gosalyn!”

“But, Dad, I have to see it! Or everyone else will and I’ll be left out,” she justified, clinging to her father’s shirt.

“Will you-” Drake grumbled, trying to unlatch his daughter’s hold from his shirt, “I will not be buying tickets to this!”

Gosalyn weeped crocodile tears into his shirt, “We already bought them.”

“Ugh, really?” Drake’s voice cracked, the sting to his wallet was always the worst, “Well, too bad, Gos - Launchpad and I can’t take you we have to figure out what OUR enemies are up to-”

Gosalyn pulled back, looking at him, intense, “uh, that’s right! Dad, I heard Quackerjack was going to strike the St. Canard Cinema!”

That caught his attention, DW flattened his grip on Gosalyn’s shoulders. He was a bit skeptical of her still, “Really, huh? Why would he bother with that?”

“He, uh-” Gosalyn looked away, thinking, “to protest - the defamation of clowns!”

“The defamation _of clowns_?” Drake squinted at her.

“I mean he's quacked up, Dad,” Gosalyn replied, letting innocence play on her face, “it doesn't have to make -”

“This makes total sense!” Drake jumped to alert, tuning out for the last half of Gosalyn’s excuse.

“It does, DW?” Launchpad piped up behind him, confused.

“Of course,” he smirked at him, jovial for the first time that morning, “Quackerjack wasn't active last night because he was planning a hit this morning!”

There was a beat.

“LP, we’re going to the movies!”

“Aye, aye, DW!” Launchpad followed him, but gulped, “hey, uh, do we have to stay after the previews?”

Gosalyn and Honker looked at each other in disbelief. Although, they hurried after the lead of Gosalyn’s parents. Gosalyn was not going to miss out on this movie.

 

The gang made it in record time! Just in time for... 30 minutes before the previews.

“Great...” Gosalyn bemoaned, but at least they’d made it at all. Her attention was captured by some of cupboard cutouts. “Hey, look!”

Darkwing stopped in his tracks, taking a defensive stance, “Quackerjack?”

Gosalyn snorted, “No, Dad, they’re making another Gizmoduck movie!”

“Ooh, when’s that one coming out?” Launchpad asked, excited, but openly avoided eye contact when DW glared at him.

“This December,” Honker pointed out.

“Who cares?!” DW broke his annoyed silence, glaring up at the inanimate Gizmoduck cutout - even it mocked him - “they’ve remade his movies like six times already! They aren’t even that good... I bet everyone’s sick of him by now!”

“Get out of the way, Dad!” Gosalyn yelled. She and Launchpad were posing with cutout while Honker tried to take their picture.

Darkwing gave up, throwing his hands in the air. Where were the calls to give him his own movie deal? He could do his own stunts! _And he was prettier_. Bah, no one appreciated an underdog story.

Since his family was DEAD to him, Darkwing made a beeline for the entrance, attempting to get past the usher. The shorter woman halted him, asking, “Ticket?”

He spluttered, “I’m not HERE to see a movie. I’m on serious-”

“You have to buy a ticket, sir.”

He growled, “I am Darkwing Duck and I’m- YEOOW!”

Gosalyn stepped on his foot as she presented their tickets to the usher, “Oh my gosh, Dad, we leave you for a minute and you worked up for no reason-”

“C’mon, DW, let’s have fun on this family outing,” Launchpad touched his shoulders, encouraging, as he pushed him through the velvet rope barrier.

Drake turned on him, “This isn’t a family outing. We are on a MISSION, Launchpad. To stop Quackerjack!”

“Oh, yeah, where is that guy?” Launchpad wondered out loud.

“I’m -” the question quieted Darkwing, “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. Doing something evil, no doubt. Just keep your eyes peeled.”

He peered down the long hallways into multiple theatres. The villain could be anywhere. Sneaking up on them that very moment..

Gosalyn apparated in front of him. Darkwing Duck, in fact, did NOT jump because he’s NOT startled by little girl... Ignoring his feeling of goosefeathers, he looked at his daughter expectantly, “What?”

“I need 20 dollars,” Gosalyn answered, “please."

“For?” he huffed.

“For popcorn, soda, candy, and stuff,” Gosalyn answered, well-acquainted with this routine.

“What happens to the money we give you?” he started to complain.

“You make me put it all in my savings account, Dad!”

“What savings account-?” Drake grimaced, realizing his mistake, “Oh, _sure_ , that savings account.”

Gosalyn stared him, palm out to accept the dough. They both knew that the game was lost. DW sighed, digging out his wallet from the breast pocket of his costume, “You will get me some Milk Buds or so help me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gosalyn sounded off, rushing off to join Honker and Launchpad at the snack counter.

“AND A SLOSHIE, YOUNG LADY!”

 

Moments later, the Mallard clan (plus Honker) were walking into their designated theatre. Drake, at least momentarily, was pacified as he slurped on a blue sloshie. Most of the seats were still empty - they were able to snag some of the best of the middle row. Some loser was seating all the way in front where the dead seats were. 

Darkwing squinted, hearing raucous laughter coming from the guy up front, “wow, I didn’t realize we paid to listen to that guy.. I thought we paid to see a movie.

From the front row, there was a loud hoot of laughter.

“Shh, DW, this is the Gizmoduck trailer...” Launchpad mumbled through a beakful of popcorn.

Drake glared at everything, everyone. No one was free of his stare. Not that any one in his party noticed, they were all enthralled with the screen as they shoveled down And it was only the previews too! Mindless ingrates...

There was another titter and series of jingling from up front. Darkwing sat up, gripping onto the back of the seat in front of him. “Quiet up front! Do you see that? That guy’s wearing a hat! Who on Earth wears a hat indoors?  
  
“You mean like you, Dad?” Gosalyn pointed out as she unwrapped a candy bar, loudly.

“It’s a part of the costume, Gos. I’m a superhero...” Darkwing pet his hat defensively.

Again, the jerk in the front row had another row of laughs, snickers, titters, the whole nine yards - the guy was busting a gut apparently!

“Unbelievable,” Darkwing grumbled as he sank down to his seat.. _Great, swell, at least THAT guy was having fun. Darkwing Duck was happy for him, honest. Might as well let the guy enjoy himself while he was literally DYING._  

“Wait, what am I thinking? I’m Darkwing Duck. The proud citizens of St. Canard paid to see this movie I could never sit idly by while this guy... disrupts a theatre!” DW stood up on his seat, ready to stand up for the masses.

The masses in return shushed him and pelted him with popcorn.

Smoothing salt and butter off his feathers, Darkwing leapt down to front row to have a few choice words with the guy. Just scare him a bit.

“I am the terror that flaps in the night... I am the outrageous popcorn prices... I am -!”

“Darkwing Duck, hehehe, you’re watching this movie too?” the familiar voice of Quackerjack mused.

  
There stood Darkwing and Quackerjack beak to beak. The jester was set up front, with a number of open candy bags in his lap, though some of the snack food was shared with his doll, Mr. Banana Brain, who had an incredibly roomy seat beside him. 

“Quackerjack, my old enemy!” Darkwing declared, rearing to finally have someone to face off with, “I knew you would be here!”

Quackerjack just stared at him with his ever-present smile, unblinking, “Ohoho, yes, good to see you too. I could not miss seeing Pennywise.”

Without missing a beat, Darkwing continued with his repartee, “The _game’s_ up, you deranged jester, I know why you’re here. You won’t be being hurting anyone here. You’ve already defamed clownkind enough yourself!”

Quackerjack’s smile faltered, sharing a confused look with Mr. Banana Brain. Softly, he said, “That was incredibly hurtful, Darkwing.”

At that point, Darkwing had been going for his gas gun, but faltered at what the other said, “Excuse me?”  
  
Mr. Banana Brain piped up, which was actually just Quackerjack’s talking thrown into a higher pitch, “You mean, excuse you! We’re just trying to watch the movie, pal.”

“What kind of sick joke is this?” Darkwing deadpanned.

Mr. Banana Brain retorted, “It’s not one!”

“And I looooove jokes,” Quackerjack added, “but Mr. Banana Brain is right. He and I are just here to watch the movie. It’s no gag, trick, stunt, lark, or prank of any sort.”

Darkwing stared blankly before shaking his head to snap himself out of it, “why should I even believe you?”

  
Mr. Banana Brain asked, “Do we have to show you our ticket stubs, ya loon?”

At that, the masked mallard grabbed at Quackerjack’s shirt, pulling him up from his seat, “Me the loon? That’s rich. You’re the one talking to yourself through a doll! And expecting me to believe you’re not up to something!”

“I am noooooot up to something,” Quackerjack protested, struggling in the other’s grasp, glaring back at Darkwing Duck, “you’re such a bully, Darkwing! A joker can’t even watch a movie for fun without getting targeted.”

“I am the defender of this city,” Darkwing shook the jester, causing the other’s hat to jingle and jangle, “I am not just some bully!”

Before he could do anything else, suddenly, Launchpad broke apart the two. He held them both in the air a moment, “Ooh, yeesh, DW, I don’t think the guy is-!”

Immediately, Darkwing was thrashing like mad, “What are you doing, Launchpad?! That’s Quackerjack!”

“Yeah,” Launchpad responded, “but you can’t put your hands on a guy when he ain’t doing-!”

“Oh, what kind of brainwashing did you put him under, Quacker-!” Darkwing leaned forward best he could to get his hands back onto the supervillain.

“DW, I’m fine, just stop!” instead of letting Darkwing touch him, Launchpad set the jester in question on the ground far away from DW.

Quackerjack dusted himself off, glaring up at the masked mallard, “This isn’t funny. I paid to watch this movie, not to be roughed up by you.”

Drake glared at Launchpad, who still held him up off the floor, “I had him, LP, what’s wrong with you?”

“Aw, geeze,” Launchpad stared up at the ceiling, thinking, “DW, I’m pretty sure Quackerjack is just here for the movie like everyone else.”

He directed his husband to view the rest of audience-goers who stared on in disgust as everything had unfolded. Launchpad continued, whispering, “I had to step in before ya’, I don’t know, throttled the guy.”

Darkwing refused to believe this, “But, Gos said that-”

“Uh, Dad, that was a lie, sorry,” Gosalyn fessed up from the middle row.

Eyebrows furrowed, Darkwing stared back at Quackerjack. Then to his seat with the Mr. Banana Head and the scattering of candied snacks. Then to the movie previews where Gizmoduck was promoting PEP during an ad.

Confounded, Darkwing unhooked himself from Launchpad’s grip and he landed to the floor. Getting up, he adjusted his clothes, making quick for the exit, “Let’s all go to the lobby, LP.”

“Aw, right,” Launchpad said, worried. As he followed after DW, he turned around to Quackerjack, saying softly, “Sorry.”

Quackerjack had sat back down in his seat. Sharing a look with Mr. Banana Head, “Yes, I agree. Darkwing should have apologized to you. Calling you a doll... Now, that’s mad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave me your thoughts if you want xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> i'm gonna end up doubleposting tonight. i have a MUCH longer chapter two to post. keep an eye out.


End file.
